


Queen of Wolves

by acrownofbluewinterroses



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2020-12-31 01:55:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21041756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acrownofbluewinterroses/pseuds/acrownofbluewinterroses
Summary: Alynna Stark often suspected she fell for the wrong people. Her first match seldom desired anyone besides a good swordsman. Even then, he became dead before his time. The gods must have found her grief amusing since whoever she loved followed suit.So, she never intended to fall for Jaime Lannister. It betrayed House Stark, the North, herself the most, and yet, it was the truth.Jaime Lannister lost what people called 'honour' long ago, he remained a Kingsguard despite that. He knew what he deserved in this world, Cersei, a sweet poison, but still fatal all the same. Regardless, Ned Stark's daughter might have been the last person he expected to change any semblance of that.  The idea could be as mad as the Mad King himself.But they were only human, and the gods had fashioned them for love. It was their great glory and their great tragedy.ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO GRRM BESIDES MY OWN CREATIONS





	1. PROMISE ME

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I wrote this a while ago and lost motivation after season 8 :/ but I'm definitely going to rewrite this and complete it one day when I finally stop being lazy. 
> 
> Also, when I wrote this I wasn't as knowledgable as I am now about some of the characters (blame the show) so if you don't agree with something, I probably don't either, but hopefully, it'll change once I update.

**1\. PROMISE ME**

The stars twinkled over the twins and Winterfell slept as the two eleven-year-olds sparred with their swords.

'You woke me up for this?' said Alynna in exasperation, an hour had crept by in the moonlit darkness. She blocked a swipe to her hip just in time and Robb bit back a laugh noting his sister's awkward stance.

'Jon won't wake up, or he was pretending well enough.' Robb shrugged, swinging his sword with brazen assurance. Swordplay day after day with a master-at-arms skilled as Ser Rodrik Cassel caused such easy reflexes and daring, or unfair advantages in Alynna's opinion. But she never considered sword-fighting herself, so there was no concern that her mother forbade it. Alynna looked forward to the day when she tried to enforce the same rule on her youngest daughter, Arya. For their headstrong sister, much preferred ringmail than woollen dresses.

'Didn't tickle _him_ awake did you?' Alynna's face filled with scepticism. Her arms were sore and hands were frozen numb from the chill, yet she met Robb's blade every time. Her quick breaths steamed the surrounding air, pearly white in the one small torch Robb brought for a poor excuse of light.

'You know it's hard to make Jon laugh.' said Robb, a grin plastered across his sweaty face. Alynna thanked the gods for the darkness as her determined expression twitched for an instant as though she were to smile. Instead, she said, 'It'll be dawn soon, Septa Mordane will do my head in if I'm snoring through embroidery.'

Robb ignored her words, backing his twin into a corner, his gaze fixed and his moves steadfast. Within seconds his sword aimed at her chest, Alynna cast her eyes to the ground in defeat, hearing Robb yawn and loosening in his grip. She spotted the sword slacken and then finding the opportunity, stomped on his foot. When he let out a small groan of pain, she kicked away the sword in his hand and raised her own against Robb's neck. She wished Jon were here, even that earned her a grin.

Her brother's eyes darkened from their shared aqua blue to a glare that matched the colour of a stormy night at sea, or so she imagined. She'd never seen the sea, not even White Harbor. The closest she'd gotten were drawings and paintings in books from their library.

Unfazed by his frown, Alynna threw aside the sword to reach out a hand and a resentful Robb took it.

'I didn't have any idea you trained enough to do that. I haven't seen you train... _ever.'_ He said in a tone dripping with accusation. If she wasn't his twin, she may have taken his words to heart and said something with equal venom. But underneath his bitterness lay only hurt for hiding something from him. In particular, what he wanted of her since the day they handed him a wooden sword and shield, and her a needle and thread. They never bothered with keeping secrets from each other, knowing the other sensed it. Although with her twin it wasn't too hard to realise what he thought. His face was an open book. Alynna dealt Robb with the tougher job in that regard. She looked to have constructed a wall with her books and dropped specific texts to create secret holes in the wall when she decided.

She tried hard not to smile, which might further annoy Robb if it didn't warm him to a smile himself. Though Robb didn't consider her, only drowning in the silence which left him to answer on his own. He'd been under the delusion that his sister didn't have a penchant for fighting. That's why oblivious, he'd been going easy on her when they began. But it became harder and harder to act as though her strikes didn't wear him out.

'Jon did that the other day, not to me but Theon.' He recalled, no longer sounding vexed but surprised, even impressed.

'This may appear a shock for you. Not every girl who watches you and the others fight are doing so to admire the way... what did Mariah Poole say? _When his hair hits the sun,_' her voice became high and Robb muffled his laughter with a gloved hand. _'The auburn in it looks as if it's kissed by fire and his eyes, aren't they shimmery as crystals?_' Alynna ended on a sappy note as her twin elbowed her, now in a jovial mood. Everyone assumed she was a meek, soft little thing. But Robb might swear in front of the heart tree that there was no one else to match such a flair for the dramatic. If anyone but the old gods were to believe him.

'But when Poole looks at me, she says my eyes are two dirty chips of ice. She's hated me since I said Arya could sew a better handkerchief than her, only because she's always calling her _Arya Horseface!_' she defended. 'And we have the same eyes.' Alynna added, abashed. She knew Robb wasn't to blame for the admiration he received. Everyone from the nobles to the smallfolk alike. It still wounded her to consider her twin was better loved. _They couldn't wait to get rid of her. _

_'Robb the Heir_, they can't help it.' Her brother winced. They hadn't spoken of it since she told him her secret, but it consumed both their thoughts. For the first time, Robb lost grasp of what his sister felt. He knew she was only pretending to sleep earlier. His tickling didn't leave such tear-streaked cheeks from laughter, and he never intended to wake Jon tonight. What better way to ease her fears than swordplay? He wished he'd known sooner of her potential. Finding out too late only rubbed salt to the wound. _I'm her brother, her twin. It's my duty to know! _

She overheard the low conversation between her parents in her room when they figured she was outside with Sansa in the soft summer snow. They hadn't envisioned how draining five games of _come-into-my-castle_ were. Alynna promised to return after changing her socks, feigning that they soaked through her shoes. Guilty for lying, she made Arya and Bran let Sansa join their game of _monsters-and-maidens_ before leaving to have peace.

But Alynna always prided herself in sneaking around the castle unseen and unheard. How else might she escape their Septa's lessons when she wondered what happened next in her stories and needed to know at that very moment? She was too good it appeared, as her parents didn't discover her in the hallway. She sensed something wrong in the tone that they spoke. Her father never sounded so fervent and her mother so icy, as if they switched bodies, but even her father's iciness had warmth. Alynna's small frame lurked in the shadows of the door to hear every word. A tightness swelling in her chest as her father expressed with sincerity of saying _no_. Denying a direct wish from their king was not wise. Regardless, it stung that her father wanted to send her to King's Landing where she had no one.

Alynna's betrothal to Tobias Baratheon, the first and only son of Lord Stannis was damning. She never even met the twelve-year-old boy. While Robb stayed in Winterfell forever, they wanted to ship Alynna off to strangers. They were the eldest, but every high-born girl dedicated their life away from home. Although she always imagined she'd wed to a lord from a house of the north, near her family. Her father never as far as fostered them to be wards, squires or cupbearers so why must she be the only one sent to court?

'Father hasn't told you yet.' It was more of a statement than a question. He picked up the two swords as Alynna led them to the armoury holding up their torch.

'Will he?' she scoffed. Lord Eddard Stark instilled in his _sons_ the harsh justice of their world. _Our way is the old way;_ he taught them. Less than a year ago, he took Robb and Jon first to see such justice being struck by the steel kiss of their ancestral sword, Ice. Alynna learned a whole song in that time and when she sang to her father on their return, he only appeared troubled by it and left them in quick haste. It didn't help that Robb and Theon teased her without mercy afterwards.

Alynna watched as her brother returned the swords to the corner of the training yard where Mikken kept his blunt-edged steel. She wondered if she was being condemned. Her father loved them, but sometimes Alynna wished he treated her with the same dignity as the boys. Jon understood her struggles more often than Robb did, believing yourself lesser did that. Sansa and Arya were too young to understand yet.

'Mother?' Robb suggested in a low voice on their way back and Alynna answered with a dismissive shake of her head. Their lady mother did everything in her power to keep Alynna close at hand now, which made it even more painful to think why she did. Not knowing when she would see her daughter again deserved to plague any mother. The more Alynna thought of her, the more it hurt so she pushed the sorrow deep inside her. But it became difficult with Robb. It may be a twin thing. She led them up the bridge connecting to the inner castle. Robb never having to be stealthy in his life made Alynna the more furtive by default. Shifty as a cat, she prowled along the side of the walkways while he tried to copy her movements to the best of his abilities.

'I figured sooner than later, but now I hope for later than never.' She whispered.

'Theon eavesdropped Fat Tom telling Alyn who overhead Hullen and Harwin by the stables who-' he hesitated when Alynna spun to face him with a pointed look. He blinked in comprehension and mulled on his next words. 'I've learned you won't be here by next moon.' Robb finished while scratching the back of his head, which he often did when he worried. _Next moon was not far, not in the slightest._

'Hodor will know before I do,' she said with scorn, hoping that ignoring his fear might mask her own.

'Ask next time you see him.' he offered. Alynna narrowed her eyes when she wanted to grin then continued on their way into the stronghold of the castle.

Robb strained to hear his sister's faint whisper as they left the Great Hall. 'Father won't stay in King's Landing, won't you come?' she hated how scared she sounded. She was a Stark of Winterfell, the direwolf was their sigil, and direwolves didn't cower. 'Might be you find yourself a squire to famous knights like Ser Barristan Selmy or Ser Jaime Lannister, they're Kingsguards,' she murmured in a lofty voice.

'I will not squire for the _Kingslayer._' Robb stated, and she let out a sigh. At last, they had reached her door. 'And besides, Jon's not trueborn, the rest are too young, there must always be a Stark in Winterfell.'_ Just not me. _

_'There must always be a Stark in Winterfell._' she mocked him, opening the door fast to reduce the creak of the hinges. She remembered not closing the door for this very reason._ Couldn't he tell she just didn't want to be alone in King's Landing?_

'Aye, there should be.' Someone else spoke, startling them both. Robb let go of his painful grip on Alynna's arm at the sight of their father. He sat on the chair by her bed where Old Nan had recounted countless tales but Alynna doubted he was in a story-telling mood. A candle lit next to him, highlighting the brooding expression on his face. Though it didn't match the tenderness in his familiar grey eyes when he saw them.

'Will I get an honest answer if I ask where both of you were now?' He asked gently, but there was no mistaking his austerity. She had to lie, or else their lady mother might find out. Alynna imagined the stupid excuses running through her brother's head and matched her father's gaze, unfaltering.

'He heard me having a horrible nightmare and took me out-outside to calm me and breathe fresh air.' she explained. She wondered how long he'd known they had been outside for as his eyes travelled to Robb with a slight frown.

'I couldn't go to sleep because of her shrieking. I'm surprised no one else found out,' he said, shaking his head in disbelief. When their father looked away for a second, she pinched Robb's arm, causing him to wince.

'Go back to bed, Robb.' their father was still gazing out the window as he spoke.

'Yes, Father.' Robb bowed his head and went to leave before Alynna hissed into his ear. 'If Jon won't wake up, try Theon next time.' He didn't look at her again as he shut the door behind him. When she saw her father wasn't in a hurry to leave, she realised the time had come for her to learn what everyone else knew. Alynna threw off her cloak and clambered into bed, pulling the furs up to her face. She looked up at him with the innocence of an eleven-year-old girl, wishing he'd see that he couldn't send such a young child away.

Eddard Stark surveyed his eldest daughter. Both twins inherited their mother's Tully blue eyes and maybe it was his imagination, but he swore that in the sun Alynna's became silvery pools of grey. In those instances, he saw a ghost. It didn't help that she shared the dark hair of the Starks as Jon and Arya had, a rich brown that fell on the cusp of black. But the similarities ended there.

'I have news to share with you,' her father began, and she feigned a look of surprise. 'It's come to the attention of King Robert, that his nephew, Tobias Baratheon, needs a Lady of Dragonstone. His twelfth nameday has just passed and His Grace has asked for your betrothal to him.'

She bit the inside of her cheek. She'd known for weeks, yet as her father said the words it was a kick to the stomach. '... It is said that the king dotes on the boy and wished the best match for him, and I have known Lord Stannis to be a just man.' he said. For longer than she cared to think, Alynna Stark was at a loss for words. 'Just but harsh.' he added. _Betrothal_. The word ruminated in her mind, so serious and final. The confidence she held before had disappeared with Robb it appeared.

It made no sense when she understood what was happening. You only married another great house of Westeros on two useful occasions, if you wanted to seal a peace or if you wanted to secure an alliance. Otherwise, why do it? Gaining or keeping influence with your vassals was more important. In particular, with the remote kingdom of the North. It still made little sense now. But kings did as they pleased. That's why they were kings.

'And they say _I'm_ the quiet wolf.' Her father broke the silence. Without meaning to, her lips began to tremble under the furs but still, she did not speak, and did not speak and did not speak.

'Since Stannis is part of the small council in King's Landing with his son, you will live in the Red Keep forging the alliance. The wedding will happen when you're both older.' He explained, not looking at her but the pile of books beside her bed. Her mouth had gone dry. It was too soon. Too fast to believe.

'You have said nothing, child.' _What did he want her to say?_ Her father uncrossed his hands and lowered the blankets from her face, he felt the wetness of them, wet with tears. Something inside him twisted with revulsion at himself. Being distant now made him feel an utter fool.

'Silence is your friend, I see.' His face had softened. 'Words are like arrows, once loosed, you cannot call them back. But you shouldn't hide them from me.'

Alynna cleared her throat, she could not weep in front of her father. She could not reverse time to when she was free to roam Winterfell as she pleased._ If she must leave, she will leave as a Stark of Winterfell, with the wolfblood in her veins._

'When will I go?' she said louder than intended.

'In two days.' he answered. 'Time enough to pack your belongings and bid your farewells.'_ That was time enough? Seven hells._

'Will I ever come back?' Her line of questioning did everything to betray the fear she tried to hide with her emboldened voice. Her father rose from the chair and crouched by the front of the bed. He stroked her hair and cupped the side of her head. 'I'm sure you will return, at least once.' he insisted while his other hand clasped hers in reassurance.

'But could you swear an oath?' asked Alynna, tightening her grip. 'Will you promise me, Father?'

Whatever Ned expected, it hadn't been this. He blinked and dreamt an old dream of a tower long fallen and a bed of blood.

'Before we end up in the crypts, I want to return home.' She pleaded as Lyanna had pleaded once.

'I swear it on the old gods.' he vowed. Ned watched her relax as if all her problems ended when they had only just begun. She let go of his hand and wore a sad smile. He was wrong. There were more similarities than he cared to realise... _but some secrets are safer kept hidden. Some secrets were too dangerous to share, even with those you loved and trusted. _

As he stood up, he glimpsed out the window. 'This room has a great view, you can see all the way to the Old Keep from here, even with just a single torch.' He had the faintest of smiles on his lips and Alynna had a sheepish grin on her face.

'Robb wanted someone to train with and judged I'd be an easy target.' she said, each blink longer than the one before.

'I'm glad to know that you are not. I trust you will be smarter in your near future.' Ned warned, and she nodded before muffling a yawn with her hand and falling back to sleep.

It had been easy to name Robb after Robert, Cat was the one who thought of it. Ned wanted to name the girl, Lyanna, but the war had just ended; His pain was too raw and his sister's death too tragic and unsettling. He thought he might change his mind when Sansa and Arya were born but there were some old wounds that never truly healed and bled again at the slightest word. So he named his first daughter, Alynna to honour her memory without shattering his heart. Different names. Same letters.

Without looking at the sleeping girl, he blew the candle to leave for the godswood.


	2. THE FAREWELL

**2\. THE FAREWELL**

The rising sun shimmered in the mists of dawn as Catelyn Stark left the Sept praying her prayers hadn’t been in vain. She remembered she did likewise once before but for her own sake then: the day after they had betrothed her to Brandon Stark, the heir of Winterfell.

She recalled thanking her father for making such a splendid match for her. _If my mother had lived, how different my life might have been? _Given she was one herself now, the notion of her daughter going south gave her goosebumps which she didn’t fault the icy north. Winterfell was always warm, even when it snowed.

She entered the Great Keep to inhale the smell of fresh-baked bread but had no appetite for it. How could she eat? Ned told her Alynna took the news as a northerner might, whatever that meant, but she saw the pride on his face plain enough. Catelyn craved the same, but she ran a household leaving little time to one’s own devices.

Alynna only saw to Septa Mordane and Maester Luwin to help pack her belongings and take her books this past week. Catelyn discovered this because of a seething Arya dragging a sobbing Bran to her yesterday after their older sister refused to open her door.

The same door fell wide open now, for every living person of Winterfell to overhear.

‘I was on the verge of finishing it!’ Alynna’s voice weighed heavy with anguish. Catelyn walked into the bedchamber and shut it tight before more people heard. When she turned, it surprised her to find Sansa standing there and comforting her sister who appeared to be at her wit’s end. Her hair fell in messy tangles and her clothes looked dishevelled. Catelyn was more used to seeing Alynna soothe the other but doubtless, something was wrong.

‘If it was in your head once, it must still be in there,’ insisted Sansa as she rubbed her sister’s back. She delighted in being the only one trusted to enter her room and comfort her, it made her feel mature. Though she was clueless about how to calm her distraught sister, she never had to try.

Alynna grumbled. ‘Writing doesn’t work that way. You can’t keep it anywhere. It passes through you and you have to catch it and get it on the page!’ Unlike Sansa, who looked up and wanted nothing more than for Catelyn to fix everything, Alynna never noticed her mother’s presence. ‘The worst thing? I don’t have a clue whether it was any good. I just wanted to have it read.’ She fought back angry tears. _The little book she was so fond of and meant to finish before she left._

‘I don’t mind if you cry, Alynna.’ said Sansa in consolation. When did her sister last cry? Had she ever cried?

‘Tears are an unmanly weakness.’ Alynna sniffed.

‘You’re not a man!’ Sansa replied while seeking guidance from her mother who motioned for her to leave. She agreed with a resigned huff and when she reached Catelyn, she spoke under her breath. ‘You’ve seen that thing Alynna’s always writing?’

Catelyn nodded. Her daughter started to read so early that the people of Winterfell said that Lady Stark must have swallowed books and a candle whilst she was in her womb. Yet, Catelyn might find a blind man reading before Robb. Alynna’s book was the pride of her heart and even Maester Luwin regarded it as a literary sprout of great promise.

‘Arya burnt it,’ her young daughter said, ‘before supper. That’s why she was late, not because _her_ _head hurt_. I said she was lying, but no one believed me.’ Sansa concluded. She gave one last glimpse at her sister before departing the room.

When Catelyn tried to touch Alynna’s arm, the girl shrank away. Her mouth closed quick as it had opened when she realised it wasn’t Sansa. ‘I’m fine, Mother.’

‘Fine.’ Catelyn repeated. To shower Alynna with love made her scarper quicker than a horse at the hint of death, that Catelyn had learnt this week. Give not enough love, and she soon pulled out her hair than admit to it. ‘I only ask if I can do your hair a final time before you’re… gone.’

She consented with a shrug and her mother went to work untangling the knots. Catelyn sensed the heat of Alynna’s fury simmering for her youngest sister as if leaving wasn’t hard enough. Part of her wanted to scold her daughter for acting so reckless and wicked while the other part understood her actions, no matter how delusional. Arya burning her sister’s prized work to ashes, so there might be a glimmer of hope for her to stay home? She might as well try to wake a stone dragon. Catelyn recalled now how livid Arya had been when Alynna avoided her and everyone else for the past few days. Catelyn knew what lay behind Alynna’s intentions, who without a doubt wanted to soften the blow of her leaving them. She was forcing them to grow accustomed to it.

‘It’s your last day here. I will see to Arya. Don’t focus so much on what she’s done now, it will lead you nowhere.’ Catelyn’s fingers fumbled through the dark locks to create small braids. Once woven into the rest of her hair it presented Alynna as a true lady of the north. Though she added twists from the sides which she’d learnt in Riverrun.

‘It’s a small loss to others.’ _You,_ Alynna refrained from saying. ‘I don’t know when I will forgive her or if I ever can.’ Arya’s flames consumed the loving work of years. It was a dreadful calamity to Alynna.

Catelyn only had one sister, and they had been as thick as thieves in Riverrun. Sansa was the closest of Alynna’s sisters because of the mere proximity in age. Although three was an odd configuration of sisters. _There was always one on the outside_, Catelyn thought.

She finished brushing out the ends of Alynna’s hair. ‘That is no way to think. Arya is your sister, you may not wish her luck now-’

‘I love her, really, that’s what hurts the most.’ Alynna took a deep breath to regain her composure. Her lady mother was right, no more Arya thoughts. She hoped their brother might knock sense into the little girl if Arya listened to anyone it was Jon.

‘Let’s speak of another topic, aren’t you excited to visit King’s Landing?’ Catelyn watched her daughter bring out the last thing she hadn’t packed. A simple dress of Stark colours in grey wool, trimmed with white, cut plain but embroidered richly around the collar and sleeves.

Alynna hesitated, not knowing where to begin. ‘I’ve read the Great Sept of Baelor is one of the prettiest buildings in the seven kingdoms with its marble walls and seven crystal towers and-and, oh-’

Her fingers became thick and clumsy as she struggled with the silver fastenings, her mother hurried over to help and she released a breathless chuckle.

‘Oh, not just the buildings, _the history_, the dragon skulls, the throne room. I’ll meet the king and queen, the princess and the princes, Uh… and my betrothed,’ Alynna said when at last she had gotten the dress buttoned right.

‘Does that concern you, sweet one?’ asked Catelyn, brushing off a stray piece of thread from the girl’s shoulder before grasping her small hands in her own. She searched Alynna’s eyes, and they were hers, even in that sweet smile she saw Edmure and her laugh was Lysa. _No one else sees the Tully in her but I._

‘Tobias Baratheon is a stranger to me,’ said Alynna inspecting the floor, ‘and what if when we’re no longer strangers, he hates me?’

‘I will pluck you out myself if you’re not treated with the kindness and respect you deserve.’ Her mother swore and Alynna knew her words weren’t wind. Catelyn was born a Tully and wed to a Stark. She did not frighten easily.

‘Pray it goes well, and I’m positive within a few years you’ll both care for one another. Things will change once he’s a man grown, and you a woman. Give him respect as much as you give him love. That’s important for a man, being respected by the woman he loves and you’ll know the man he is by how he treats that respect.’

Her heart beat so fast she wondered whether her mother could hear it. Alynna would give all the time remaining for just one more day home, _but then would she have the strength to leave?_ She must not baulk.

‘Yes,’ Alynna said, ‘I’ll behave the perfect lady.’ She donned a smile so warm it could melt ice.

Catelyn enveloped her daughter into her arms and kissed her head. Alynna clenched her jaw. _Nobody even imagines how well one can lie about the state of one’s own heart._

‘You should go to Robb. I think he’s more worried than you are.’ her mother murmured with a rib-shattering squeeze.

‘Is he?’ she asked, knowing.

‘Get off my foot, Sansa!’ An angry yelp came from outside the room. They pulled apart, giving the door a strange look. _‘Bran, no!’_ another shrill voice exclaimed as Robb, Sansa and Bran toppled into the room. Sansa shoved Robb aside and smoothed out the wrinkles from her skirt while Bran came in laughing.

‘They said you disappeared like in Old Nan’s stories but I whispered the magic words, and you came back!’ Bran rushed toward her. She picked the small boy up and carried him around her waist. Bran Stark was a dreamer. A starry-eyed child who climbed up mountains and slept in clouds. Catelyn frowned at the other two for lying to their brother and they bowed their heads, abashed.

‘What were the magic words?’ Alynna arched a brow. When he shook his head, suddenly mute, she spun him around and around, causing Bran to giggle uncontrollably.

‘Tell me!’ she wore a stern face not dissimilar to their lord father, and he relented while her twin slouched onto the bed, gingerly rubbing his foot.

_‘The wolves will come again.’_ Bran recited, then with small fingers, forced his sister’s mouth into a grin. ‘You smile, I smile.’ he whispered and she kissed his cheek.

‘That _is_ an old story.’ Alynna said. Robb fell back onto the bed hearing enough of tales to last lifetimes.

‘Older than Old Nan?’ their younger brother asked in disbelief, squirming to be on his own feet again and Alynna granted him his wish.

‘Not a chance.’ the twins spoke in unison. Catelyn took this as a sign to leave her eldest two alone and left holding the hands of her other children. Robb looked up at his sister gazing around the room in mourning. The one who preferred most to live with flowers and music and to have a book in quiet solitude. Now being swept off to be a lady in lively courts among people singers sang songs.

Earlier in the morning, earlier than possibly reasonable, Robb woke to a constant knocking on his door. He opened it ready to hit the person who rose him before even the sun but Sansa just stormed in rambling nonsense. After he calmed her and understood what had happened he realised, this was the first time he _could_ wait to see Alynna. She put her whole heart into her work, hoping to make something good enough to read. Both Arya and Alynna had quick tempers when vexed and though they had had many lively skirmishes in the course of their lives, this was next to unforgivable. Robb wanted to at least hear it from an unaware Alynna but he supposed he was asking for too much with two young children around his feet.

One familiar glance from his sister sent him following her out of the empty bedchamber at a loss for words. She’d thwarted any attempts of communication since the night they spent out with blunt swords. Robb only assumed their father informing when she might leave changed something. He wanted to be mad at her. Robb was mad. He was so mad at Alynna for ignoring them he wanted to yell at her, but he didn’t. She wouldn’t ignore him unless she had no choice. Alynna had never been alone, not really. Mayhaps she was getting used to that.

‘Sorry. Er...about Arya.’ Robb muttered.

‘Me too, let’s not dwell on it.' she replied, stopping at his door. 'What are you hiding?’ Alynna asked sharply as he sped up in a hurry.

‘I’m hiding nothing.’ He raced past her, entering the room first.

‘Right, how foolish of me.’ She walked in at a normal pace, glancing around for her brother.

‘Don’t start losing your wits now when you’ll need them the most.’ He appeared behind the door as it shut, making her flinch but Alynna bit back a smile when she saw him.

‘I’m not Bran. Just because I can’t see your hands doesn’t mean you’re not hiding something.’ Her shrewd eyes reminded Robb of their mother. He sighed before presenting a thick book. ‘I’m glad you’re not Arya because I do not want this to burn.’ It had a magnificent cover, titled,_ The Shores of Asshai and Other Shadowed Lands._

‘You learnt how to read?’ She asked in amazement, taking the gift and holding it with more care than she ever did her siblings as small babes.

‘Yes, _Baelor the Blessed._’ Robb retorted. He couldn’t resonate with her same adoration and had long stopped trying. A book in her hands and nothing else mattered.

But Robb’s jests did nothing to dampen Alynna’s mood. She even forgot Arya’s folly for a short while as she flipped through with caution. ‘The pages are different. This isn’t from here, but it’s in the common tongue.’ She noted.

‘It’s from Braavos, well the maester wrote it in Braavos, copies went to the Citadel, and this one ended up in White Harbor.’ He spoke to his shoes. ‘I asked Luwin to send a raven to Lord Manderly’s maester requesting the best book with mysteries of Essos from the trading galleys unloading goods there. Father allowed it after I prattled on how you always dreamed of seeing the east, discover and write their secrets.’ Robb’s voice cracked as he continued. ‘And how I might bring the shadowed lands to you instead since it was the closest thing to across the narrow-’

Alynna’s sudden hug engulfed him by surprise though it didn’t stop him from returning it with equal fierceness. It hadn’t occurred to Robb how much he needed it.

‘We never hug.’ Her voice muffled against his shoulder. Robb’s head shuddered as if he were crying but he let out a laugh instead.

‘I’m sorry.’ He said weakly, eyes shut tight and stinging. It was Alynna’s turn to force a chuckle.

‘What will Winterfell be without you?’ Robb murmured, resting his head on her shoulder. He was unsure whether he’d be able to stand if she wasn’t there, her hand on his head easing the terrible ache inside him.

‘It will be you.’ Alynna replied, unwavering. ‘What will I be without you?’ She asked as Robb tried to control his shaky breathing.

‘You won’t be without me. Not really.’ They pulled apart and Robb handed her the book. ‘This was when I was hoping to give it to you.’

‘That’d be nice timing. Perfect.’ Alynna said, ‘But I prefer you scrambling around like a headless chicken trying to hide it much more… if it’s any help.’

‘I only aim to please.’ Robb bowed.

‘It would please me if you watched over the others.’ She replied as he rose. ‘Bran looks up to you, help him. Let the girls have their fun and just be a brother to Jon, you know, _Mother._’ Alynna's eyes bore into the floor. Robb scratched the back of his head with a frown, thinking of the same memory.

_Every morning the boys trained together since they were big enough to walk; Snow and Stark, spinning and slashing around the wards of Winterfell. They shouted and laughed, sometimes they cried when there was no one else to see but Alynna who tried her best to heal their wounds and injuries. They were not little boys when they fought, but knights and mighty heroes. ‘I’m Prince Aemon the Dragonknight,’ Jon called out, and Robb shouted back. ‘Well, I’m Florian the Fool.’ Or Robb said, ‘I’m the Young Dragon,’ and Jon replied, ‘I’m Ser Ryam Redwyne.’_

_That morning, Jon called it first. ‘I’m Lord of Winterfell!’ he cried, as he had a hundred times. Only this time, this time, Robb answered. ‘You can’t be Lord of Winterfell, you’re bastard-born. My lady mother says you can’t ever be the Lord of Winterfell.’ The words had a sobering effect, bringing Alynna out from her book in time to watch Jon swallow his hurt. He shouted, ‘Then I’m Aegon the Conqueror, and my sword, Blackfyre!’_

‘I’ll do my best.’ Robb vowed. ‘Now and always.’ He spoke with a lord’s voice. _Their father’s voice. _

‘Good.’ She nodded. ‘Don’t be afraid to send a raven. You know I won’t.’ Her brother scoffed at that.

‘When the seven kingdoms have a shortage of ink, I’ll know who to blame.’ He said.

‘The ink will be on my hands.’ Alynna admitted, taking her gift and one last look at the room. ‘I must hound Jon to write to me. Where is he?’ It was strange walking away from her twin, like a broken compass. 

‘By the stables? He rides in the morning sometimes.’ And she left her twin alone. The thing against which she’d been fighting on and off since the dawn was threatening to overpower her. There was a burning, pricking feeling in the inner corners of her eyes but she forced herself to deny its existence as she walked out of the Great Keep.

More people were noticing Alynna than usual, and most of the smiles she received were sad. It helped to recognise how much Winterfell cared so she kept her head held high as she marched onward, thinking of Jon Snow.

Alynna didn’t fail to notice her mother’s natural unpleasantness toward her brother. Seating him farther away from them during big feasts, always ignoring his general presence and sending him disdainful looks once in a while. In her heart, Alynna knew it was unfair to harbour this silent hatred and anger for the poor boy who had no control of his birth. She loved him without question. To treat him any less than her brother was indefensible. Jon being a bastard couldn’t stop that.

Both of them were quiet people, making Robb the unabashed leader of the three. So it wasn’t hard for the withdrawn pair to become close. More so after Robb began following his father’s lead, being the heir to Winterfell with Theon Greyjoy always by his side. She sensed a somewhat unreasonable shame from Jon about this. Alynna made her best efforts to be in his presence, whether that be watching him practice or read aloud while he did. Jon always preferred that they'd instead re-enact the famous fights in her books, the battles that bled through history. It was much to her resistance since it was only a matter of time before the Septa caught her and made her face her mother's judgement. That never stopped her before though. So, she fought anyway, only wanting to keep Jon company. It was her damn luck that he liked to play with swords all day.

_‘Maester.’_ A figure blocked her path. No doubt he was smiling_. He was always smiling._ As if the world were a secret joke only his cleverness understood. She looked up to face Theon Greyjoy, their father’s ward.

It wasn’t long after Theon’s arrival at Winterfell that he befriended Robb. Alynna considered them close as brothers, though she hardly thought the same for herself, not for someone who scorned her the moment they met. Lucky for Theon she wasn’t that fond of him either, remembering what she had learnt of the ironborn. The story of a people caught between dreams of past glory and the poverty of the present. They sat apart from Westeros by the grey-green waters of the sea and remained a realm unto themselves on the iron islands.

Alynna and Theon were now more alone than she had ever allowed herself before, far away from any prying person’s ears. _‘Iron boy._’ She addressed the ward. They dressed him in silks and velvets. Instructed him in chivalry and courtesy and the mysteries of the Faith, but when Alynna looked into his eyes, the sea was still there, cold and grey and cruel.

‘You won’t move unless you’ve had your say?’ She asked, unshrinking at the twelve-year-old.

‘I’ll move.’ Theon only said before he gripped her arm, pulling it against her vain protestations until he reached the back of the old library tower. Alynna turned on him, incredulous with his behaviour.

‘What possessed you to do that? If anyone saw, they might finally see the hostage, not the ward to do as they wish.’ She said. Theon was smiling. Ever smiling.

His eyes darted from their surroundings and before Alynna could conjure another thought he kissed her. She didn’t even have time to blink before he backed away, something falling heavy in her pockets. Without thinking, she slapped Theon across the face.

‘Nice of you to return the favour.’ He complained as he touched his cheek gingerly. ‘At least now both our cheeks are red.’

‘What is this?’ Alynna demanded, ignoring his words and taking out a small wrapped package. She never believed Theon to make such a fool of himself for_ her._

‘A gift.’ Theon said as if she were stupid instead of unnerved with his smirking face. _What was wrong with him?_

‘What if Robb found out?’ She hissed.

‘Will you tell him?’ He said in derision. Alynna’s hesitation to answer caused Theon’s grin to widen.

‘No,’ she said, begrudged, ‘I’m not so cruel as to leave him angry.’ The boy nodded in approval. ‘I knew there was a reason to call you Maester,’ he patted her on the head. ‘There’s a good dog.’

‘Not a dog,’ she swatted his hand and her voice emboldened. _‘_A_ direwolf.’ _Alynna started to walk away but paused without turning. ‘Don’t think I won’t send a raven from King’s Landing. You will suffer then.’ He responded with a mocking wolf howl._ A hundred years might have passed, _Alynna thought,_ and it would still be too soon to see Theon Greyjoy’s face again._

As much as she wanted to, she didn’t run, passing the chicken coop at a brisk walk. Though, when she saw Jon in the distance, she couldn’t help it. Seeing him with the horses, she imagined herself riding away from her duties, _an escape to another world. _Where she could do whatever she wished,not pleasing everyone with simpering smiles and stupid small-talk.

‘Are the white walkers after you?’ asked Jon as Alynna reached him with her hands on her knees, gulping in the summer air.

‘No.’ she said, giving him a withering look. ‘Why?’

‘Why else might you be running?’ He said, _always cynical._ He had the Stark face if not the name: long, solemn, guarded, a face that gave nothing away.

‘You should wear motley and a hat to jingle bells, so everyone can enjoy how funny you are.’ Alynna replied, wincing in pain. She snatched the waterskin from Jon’s hands, pulled out the stopper, and tilted her head to squeeze a long stream of cool water into her mouth.

The _wine_ was cool as fire as it trickled down her throat and warmed her inside. She managed not to spit out any from her mouthful and threw the skin back to her brother, his laughter ringing in her ears.

‘Leave any for the rest of us?’ Jon weighed the wineskin in front of her, and she glowered at him.

‘You’ve just woken up, Jon! One cup during feasts, that’s what father always says.’ She lectured.

‘_You’ve_ just woken up. It’s only high-born ladies who cannot be drunk, Al. No one cares for another drunk bastard.’ Alynna’s face softened in sympathy. Half of Jon hated her for it while the other half ached terribly.

‘I do.’ She said. ‘Yes, I won’t be here anymore, but we can still write to each other.’ 

Jon didn’t know what he would do without Alynna home. He once overheard her defending him to Lady Catelyn when he meant to fetch her for a race with Robb in the wolfswood. A small thing to others, but to Jon it was everything. Acceptance was everything. That’s why he grew a fondness for Arya and Bran and their attachments to him. Arya most, who felt an outsider in her own family related to Jon easily. Though Sansa followed her mother in every step, she never hated Jon, but she kept her distance.

Jon nodded, unwilling to talk of it any longer. He beckoned her to follow him to the two horses, saddles and stirrups ready in place. `Why were you running?’ He asked. Even under the sun, his eyes were a grey so dark they seemed almost black, but there was little they did not see.

Alynna gathered the reins in her hands and slid her feet into the short stirrups. She was a better rider than Robb though he would never admit it. Hullen, the master of the horse said she rode as her aunt and uncle had. She gave the young filly the lightest touch with her knees and for the first time in hours she was free.

Jon rode beside her, hooting together as they disturbed a murder of crows in the grass. Their gallops settled into a soft stroll near the drawbridge and Alynna finally spoke.

‘I wanted to run away from everyone. I sound like a terrible person, maybe I am. You were the only one I could bear to see after Theon kissed me-’

‘He did what?’ Jon interrupted, turning his horse to face hers.

'Don't go looking for him now,' Alynna sighed, ‘I’m telling you because I trust you won’t do something stupid.’ She sent him a pointed look. _Robb._

‘Aye, I won’t.’ Jon said, _Theon Greyjoy was an ass._

‘Thanks.’ Alynna appeared calmer at the sound of that.

‘Well, not today. And you are not a terrible person, the farthest thing from it.’ He added. His sister’s face split into a wide smile. ‘Didn’t know you had it in you.’

‘I’m full of surprises.’ Jon shrugged as he leaned on the side of his horse to pull out something.

‘More wine?’ Alynna suggested with wary eyes. Jon smiled at that. It was a shame he didn’t do it often. He handed her a blank leather-bound book, nicer than the one that perished in the fire. She looked up at him in confusion.

‘Arya woke me up sobbing, telling me no one would love her till she asked pardon for the act which she now regretted more than any of us.’ He explained. Alynna remembered how much she wanted to scream the instant she discovered the truth. Arya, who had seldom been quiet in all her living days, hadn’t said a word as she watched her sister scramble around for a lost cause. _How could she?_

‘She had no right. I’ve always defended her, from my lady mother, Septa Mordane, the girls who call her names. I’m the one she used to crawl into bed with when she had nightmares. Told her stories of The Scarlet Shadow, Elissa Farman sailing west, Nymeria and her ten thousand ships, Queen Visenya atop Vhagar, and how did she repay me? Sisters don’t do that.’ Alynna turned her horse to the castle.

‘I’m not excusing what she did, she must repent on her own. But you see why she did it, don’t you? Arya’s just a child, you’ve been there her whole life, for good and ill, but you were there. We don’t know when we will see you again and she can’t handle it.’ Jon said as they rode back. ‘She’s angry at you for leaving. Sad you won’t stop it, and getting twisted revenge from burning your writing. She’s upset that she made it worse than before but she’s still angry that you’re leaving.’ 

Alynna wished she didn’t care. It would have made it so much easier to hate Arya, but she only hated how she treated her family._ It was all too much._

‘It was last night if you learnt so soon, that must mean-’

_‘_That _you’ve _just woken_._’ He repeated. One familiar thought repeated itself in Alynna’s head. _ Poor Jon._

When the last of the Starks had been born, the older siblings took it upon themselves to become closer to one of the younger three. Alynna had Sansa, a sister for her own, Robb liked Bran most, who resembled him and Jon? Hewould do anything for Arya.

The burning and pricking feeling returned in Alynna’s eyes. She blinked hard and stared up at the sky, clouds drifting apart under the soft sun. Now the burning feeling was in her throat, too. She stopped before the now enlivened Winterfell.

‘We will mourn your stories,’ her brother said as she took deep breaths. ‘But I believe they are far from over, Al.’ Jon finished, uncharacteristically optimistic. 

As they arrived at the stables, their father was there speaking to Harwin, patting the guard on the shoulder as he sighted Alynna and Jon. Her horse moved out of her control for a moment, perhaps sensing her fear. Jon had already swung down from his and stroked the horse’s neck in reassurance.

By the time Alynna jumped onto the grass, Ned Stark had reached them. When his daughter raised her head, it appeared as if something had died behind her eyes, a light extinguished.

‘They are waiting.’ he said.

She turned to Jon, smiling. ‘One day, I’ll return, and everything will be the same.’ Jon wanted to believe her words, but words were wind. Not wasting another second, she flung her arms around him. He was reluctant at first but soon embraced his sister. ‘Please rest.’ She whispered in his ear. 

Eddard Stark felt a wave of terrible sadness wash over him, but he did not show it when they sprang apart to join the rest of the family.

They were waiting beside loaded wagons, belongings that belonged back in her room now packed in a polished ironwood chest. Catelyn stood beaming, but as clouds grew above them, both Catelyn and Alynna’s eyes became a harsh blue, as though the tears kept hidden enriched the colour. Catelyn knew better than any of them of Alynna’s heart. Betrothed to a stranger, somewhere far and foreign. She had prayed and prayed, now it was in the hands of the Mother above, _may she have mercy._ Alynna didn't fail to notice when her mother forced a smile as she approached her.

‘You’re a strong girl. Be careful of who you trust.’ Lady Catelyn said, her hand cupping Alynna’s face. She rubbed a thumb over her soft cheek, rueful and proud. Her mother was the strongest person Alynna knew, she had to be right.

A small whimper distracted Alynna’s attention to below her at a red-eyed Sansa. Sansa who had been more excited than her of the prospect of her wedding to the heir of Dragonstone.

Sansa had been a lady by three, always courteous and eager to please. People said she looked like Alynna. _She will grow far more beautiful than I ever will_, Alynna thought as she crouched to Sansa’s height. Alynna often sent away Sansa’s maid so she could brush her hair herself. She had auburn hair, lighter than Robb, and when the red in it caught the light of the torches, it shone like copper.

‘Take me with you.’ Sansa begged. No one else read the stories of knightly valour or sang at night of maidens as Alynna did.

‘You are a lady of House Stark. Your place is here.’ Her young sister’s face grimaced. ‘And if that's not enough, I’ll come back for you one day and we will be queens together.’ Sansa nodded, then hid her face behind her mother’s skirts. It wasn’t ladylike to sob uncontrollably.

As soon as Alynna turned to Arya and Bran, the small boy rushed into her arms. He started asking when Alynna would finish _Tales of the Dragonknight,_ to look at his new wooden toys, knights and horses, he had to clarify, not dolls. Instead of answering, she showered him with kisses. _What if he forgot her?_ The mere thought made her eyes glassy with tears and Robb went to pick up Bran. How could she leave upset at Arya?

Alynna pulled Arya into a hug much to the little girl's vast dismay, brows furrowing in resentment. Besides Alynna, the only person who enjoyed Arya's company was Jon. She struck the most success at keeping the younger sisters civil. _If only Sansa was the one to go._ It even seemed that Alynna might forgive her for what she had done. _But she’s still going._ Arya pushed back with a haughty glare and skirted off, wiping away angry tears from her blotchy face.

Behind Robb, further away from her family, Jon gave one final wave before chasing after a mad Arya. Alynna met Robb's eyes, _they were separating for the first time._

She imagined being a weeping mess in his arms if they hugged again, crying herself hoarse in front of everyone who relied on her to represent the north. Instead, she held out her hand and Robb clenched his jaw as he shook it with a firm grip.

‘See you soon, Bobby.’ Alynna muttered under her breath. Her twin had the faintest of smiles on his lips at the sound of his old nickname.

‘Aly.’ He nodded. She forced herself to move on and continue her farewells to the rest of Winterfell’s household, Jory Cassel even picked her up in the air like it was any other day. She curtsied to Septa Mordane but hugged Maester Luwin, the links of his chain against her face as he patted her on the back. Her wits awed the maester ever since she learnt her letters and he would miss their discussions dearly.

It wasn’t long before she was riding beside her father with guards surrounding them. She discreetly took out Theon’s gift, wanting to know what it was before throwing it away but she unwrapped it to find a wolf carved in wood,_ no, a direwolf,_ she corrected herself.

There’s a strange feeling when you’re about to leave a place. You’ll not only miss the people you love but you’ll miss the person you are in time because you’ll never be this way ever again.

Alynna didn’t look back. 


End file.
